


Us and Them

by oldestcharm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldestcharm/pseuds/oldestcharm
Summary: If Stiles has to babysit a toddler, he is sure as hell going to rope Derek into it as well.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 89





	Us and Them

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the only kid fic I'll ever write, because I'm not a big fan myself, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head so, here.

Stiles doesn't know a thing about kids.

No, seriously. Aside from vague recollections of himself back in the day, he has not had any experience with them and the few times there have been a couple of coincidences of him being in the same room as some children, he has treated them as tinier versions of adults. That approach hasn't bode well with the parents, however, because Stiles has no filter and when he tries he just gets nervous. He isn't sure why exactly he's been so determined to impress kids, but despite being a grade A asshole, he has always wanted to be liked by others.

The thing is, though, that by the end of the weekend he will have lost all respect he has managed to gain throughout the years in the eyes of Lydia and Jackson. Stiles doesn't know why the hell those two decided that he would be a good choice to babysit their daughter while they are on vacation, but he figures they must have been desperate.

Stiles tries for about an hour before he gives up and seeks for help. He calls Derek, because when he isn't busy ripping out throats and growling at the passersby, he is actually a pretty PG guy and Stiles hopes, rather than believes, that he has some experience with kids. He figures Derek must know _something_ , because he has a younger sister and has, quite possibly, had other younger siblings that are most certainly a no-no subject due to being, you know, deceased. And even if Derek turns out to be as clueless as Stiles himself, at the very least he will get to bask in satisfaction of having roped Derek into this hell world alongside with him. He deserves it too, after last week when he'd utterly ruined Stiles' evening by crashing in with a supernatural emergency and scaring off his date. Despite Stiles' temporary resentment, he feels more than relieved when Derek finally shows up at his apartment, buzzing rather obnoxiously at the doorbell.

"Oh thank god you're here," Stiles says rather breathlessly, yanking him inside by his wrist and practically slamming the door shut behind him with his foot. He shifts Ariel in his hands, presenting the little girl to Derek like she's a demonic doll he's found while searching through the attic of a demon infested house. "What the hell do I do with it?"

Derek blinks at him, brows arching as though he isn't sure he's heard him right. "You said there was an emergency," he offers eventually, looking between Stiles and Ariel as though he doesn't think this is a good enough reason to interrupt his ridiculous routine of scowling at the walls and doing push ups in rooms you could contract tetanus from.

"This _is_ an emergency!" Stiles protests, closing his eyes for a brief moment to take a deep breath so he won't go off on Derek. No matter how much he wants to raise hell, he still needs Derek's help. "I have to take care of a living being that requires more attention than just some green vegetables on the dinner table. I do not know how to do that, Derek."

Derek frowns slightly, but is gracious enough to extract a sleepy Ariel from Stiles' hands, which is excellent fucking timing, because she's got her tiny little hands twisted in Stiles' hair and it fucking hurts. Derek, however, makes it look like it is the most natural thing in the world, which makes Stiles suspect he's probably dated a single mom before, never mind how bizarre of a concept that is.

"I thought Scott and Allison were going to take her for the week," he says, settling Ariel comfortably in his arms. At once, she splays a hand over his stubble _and for fuck's sake_ , Stiles doesn't think he's ever been so jealous of a toddler before. He too wants to slide his hands all over that jaw, except Ariel can get away with it and he has no excuse. He has to remind himself not to glare at the kid. She's not too bad, really, just loud and far too curious for her own good.

"They're hosting Gerald this weekend," Stiles says with a grimace and Derek scrunches up his nose sympathetically, almost as though he can't help himself. After all these years and arguments, one of the few things he and Derek can agree on, is that Gerard would be better off dead. Then again, wishing people dead doesn't actually make them dead and occasionally, when Stiles is feeling generous enough, he will join Derek and Peter for their family dinners just to defuse some tension. Usually he does a pretty shit job of it, but Derek doesn't seem to mind. Neither does Peter, for that matter, which is all kinds of weird.

"No one told me he was in town," Derek offers and he looks decidedly unhappy about it. Stiles has long ago stopped paying attention to Derek's frowny faces. There are too many of them to keep track of and it's not like the man's too miserable these days.

"I'm telling you now," Stiles points out and leads the two of them into the living room with a hand on Derek's back.

"It's un-fucking-helpful now," Derek says, craning his head to look at him.

"Stop fucking swearing in front of the kid," Stiles says without a hint of shame.

To his credit, Derek doesn't even bat an eye. He does, however, have plenty of thoughts on Gerard.

"Why do they even bother with him? I can imagine they _enjoy_ his company." He directs his attention to Ariel, who is still trying to shove her fingers into his mouth and slides onto one of Stiles' kitchen stools. "Even Chris won't bother with him."

Stiles shrugs and slams two mugs onto the table. "Masochists, the both of 'em."

Derek raises one delicate eyebrow.

"Alright, fine. It's more likely they just want to seem courteous and forgiving and all that bullshit," Stiles amends and Derek's lips quirk a smile. "We don't have to call them out on it."

"I'd rather," Derek says with a shrug.

Stiles rakes a hand through his hair, agitated. "Yes. Yes, I do too, but _please_ don't. I don't think I can deal with another lecture from Scott. Do you know how insufferable they are? And I'm the only one who has to put up with them."

Derek hides his grin in Ariel's strawberry blonde hair. "I assure you, you're not."

"Oh, so we're the bad guys?" Stiles asks, exasperated and turns to look at him, hands on his hips.

"We're the bad guys," Derek confirms and there's a strange expression on his face that Stiles cannot place.

"What? What's with the face?" he asks and flicks the pot on as an afterthought.

"Have you been up all night?"

Stiles frowns. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I mean, it doesn't help," Derek says with a light shrug.

"With what?" He grits his teeth and dumps a bunch of coffee beans in a grinder, jamming the button multiple times before it starts working. "Goddamnit," he hisses as the cracked lid blows off the machine and the fresh grounds fly everywhere. He doesn't make a move until warm fingers wrap around his wrist, tugging slightly.

"With everything," Derek insists and when Stiles dares to look in his direction, he finds two pairs of concerned eyes staring right back at him. "Take a break? Please?"

"What for?"

Derek looks unimpressed. "Sleep."

Stiles snorts and turns to find a towel to clean up his kitchen. He doesn't even bother replying, which apparently seems to piss off both of his guests. Ariel lets out a displeased noise and Derek scoffs loudly.

"You know," he begins slowly, in a tone that has Stiles snapping his head up immediately, "I just remembered I have laundry to do. Can't put it off anymore. You'll just have to say here. Alone with the kid."

"What? No. You can't leave me with her!" Stiles protests, voice panicky as he reaches for Derek's wrist.

"Take a nap, Stiles," Derek says, rolling his eyes, "and I'll stay."

Stiles lets go of him, eyes narrowed. "This is cheating!"

Derek shrugs. "I know."

"Fine," Stiles huffs, utterly annoyed by the concern. "Fine I'll sleep for a few hours."

Derek raises an eyebrow.

"I'll sleep for more than a few hours?" Stiles amends, uncertain. Derek smirks, seemingly satisfied.

Derek gets up from the stool, adjusting Ariel in his arms and Stiles frowns at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure that you actually go to bed," Derek says and nods at Stiles' bedroom.

"That's ridiculous," Stiles says with a scowl. He isn't sure why he's so invested in this.

"You clearly can't be trusted," Derek says and then winces. Stiles really wishes they didn't have to have that conversation again. "Not in general, I mean. To take care of yourself."

Stiles offers him a noncommittal shrug, not willing to give him the point, but also very aware that there is some truth to the claim.

"Come on, then, you can babysit me as well."

Derek grins and it's actually kind of devastating. Ariel seems to agree, seeing as she is staring at him with wide eyes, tiny fingers back at Derek's face. Stiles shakes his head and stalks off to his bedroom, flopping down on the bed. He's too tired to fight this.

Derek catches up and examines the scene in front of him. "At least get under the covers."

Stiles sighs and gives his best effort to comply. He peers up at him with one eye open. "Good enough?"

"Almost," Derek says and disappears from Stiles' sight. He has to crane his neck to see what he's doing, but to his surprise, Derek just pulls down the blinds. "Now get some sleep. I'll be here if you need me."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles mumbles, but he's already too tired to focus. Before he falls asleep he thinks there's a hand in his hair and a soft kiss pressed against his hair, but he cannot be sure. He'll figure it out in the morning.


End file.
